#((Sorry... didn't have time to make tuxedo Zain icons lol

[thegatesofinfinitespace]

Suit, check. Tie, tied, cufflinks on, vest and pocket square, shoes not out of place. It's a formal event, a press conference, a diplomatic negotiation and a black-tie gala all in one. It's stressing him out, was what it was. Limited guests, all dressed up.

Literally anything and everything there could be misinterpreted, and equally a space with this many government officials was asking for some sort of ambush or attack by-- Zain crosses his arms again, an attempt to keep from fidgeting, though he was becoming increasingly aware it was starting to make him look equally as unapproachable-- and he and Xanti had only just arrived.

Already he can count several high-profile individuals-- including the speaker for New-Gen Perspective, a peaceful reploid's rights activist group.

A sigh burns and dies in his throat as he looks reluctantly to Xanti. How do I look less standoffish? It's a losing game. "You look nice," awkward conversation, but he was trying. Look casual, damn it. The blond's multicolored eyes travel the ball-room, attempting to find a face he was sure he'd recognize. It's crowded, a full house. "...Any sign of our bodyguard?"

[DWN-000]: //Where are you?//

@overx